


telling me about his pokemon

by qvasimodos



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Background Javert/Jean Valjean, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21878107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qvasimodos/pseuds/qvasimodos
Summary: Gavroche Jondrette was far too old for a babysitter.
Relationships: Gavroche Thénardier & Jean Valjean
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18
Collections: Sewerchat Solstice Exchange 2019





	telling me about his pokemon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [interlunium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/interlunium/gifts).



> this is a gift for my sewerchat solstice exchange recipient, ashton! i hope you enjoy it!

Gavroche Jondrette was far too old for a babysitter.  
  


This is what he yelled to his sister, Courfeyrac, and anyone else who would listen as he was dragged out of the house.  
  


“But you said we’d go see the Christmas zoo lights!”  
  


“That is _next_ week, Gav,” Éponine responded. “The zoo hasn’t put them up yet.”

  
“But what about Mario Kart—”  
  


“Gav. We had a tournament last night.”

  
“Well— well, what about—”  
  


Courfeyrac sighed, looking at Gavroche through the mirror. “Gav, buddy. I promise we’re not abandoning you. You just can’t come see an R-rated movie with us.”  
  


Both Éponine and Courfeyrac decided to ignore the scream of “I’m eight, I’m old enough!”

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone with _him_.”  
  


They stood outside the door of old man Valjean’s house, none of them seeming to want to knock. Valjean lived here with his husband, Javert; they were empty-nesters now that Cosette had moved into the dorms, but they still managed to see her every week.  
  


While Valjean had jumped at the chance to babysit, Javert had disappeared for ‘work-related reasons’ (“justice never rests,” was his gruff response as he hung up with Cosette). Gavroche didn’t want to be babysat, but he certainly didn’t mind that Javert _wouldn’t_ be there, given that the last time he’d seen him, he’d flipped the older man off. That was bound to leave an impression.  
  


“Gav, hush. He’s very nice, you know this,” Courfeyrac ruffled Gavroche’s hair and knocked on the door of the enormous house.  
  


“He’s gonna make me do old man stuff, like _read_ —”  
  


The door suddenly opened to reveal a wide-shouldered, aging man with entirely white hair. A rotund tabby weaved around his legs, meowing annoyedly, as if the old man were her mother.

  
Valjean leaned down to give the cat a pat, smiling as she pushed her head into his hand. “Hello Éponine, Courfeyrac— and Gavroche! Haven’t you grown since I saw you last!”

  
Gavroche managed a slight nod, hiding behind Éponine’s leg in an uncharacteristically shy way. All he had wanted was a quiet night playing his video games by _himself_ , not spending it with some stuffy old man in his stuffy old house. With his stuffy old cat.  
  


Gavroche did _not_ pay the cat _any_ mind as she weaved around his legs, chirping happily.

* * *

“So, Gavroche, what do you like to do for fun?” The old man’s voice was far too cheerful. Come on, he was old, wasn’t he supposed to be depressed or something?  
  


Gavroche shrugged, plopping himself down on the man’s (quite frankly, ugly) furniture. How many decades old was this sofa? And why did none of the pieces match?  
  


Valjean frowned, fidgeting with his hands. “Perhaps you’re hungry, I can get you something to drink, or make you a snack—”  
  


“Do you have any Monster?”  
  


Valjean frowned; the child had not yet looked up from his gaming console (a Switch, he thought, is what Cosette called it). “I seriously doubt that your sister allows you to drink that sort of thing.”

  
“Hmph,” was the disgruntled response.  
  


“You must want something.” Valjean sat beside the boy, ignoring his attempts to turn over and hide his screen. “Apple juice? Maybe one soda? Or perhaps you want some macaroni, Cosette says she always enjoyed it—”  
  


“I’m not a _baby_ , M’sieur Valjean!” The Switch is tossed aside, and Valjean is able to finally able to properly see the boy’s face. His arms were crossed, knees pulled up to his chest, and he looked like he was about to cry. “I’m not a baby, M’sieur... please don’t treat me like one.”  
  


So, perhaps they could get along together. “Is that why you think your sister brought you here? Because I’d treat you like a baby?”  
  


“No... yeah. Maybe, I dunno, M’sieur—,” the boy was becoming more frustrated with each word, unable to express what he was feeling except by flailing. “I just thought they sent me here to get out of their way. So they could go do their grown-up stuff ‘cause I’m a baby and they don’t want me around.”

  
Valjean had never dealt with something like this with Cosette. She had been skittish, yes, and frightened in those first few months, but she seemed to relish his attentions and the amount he doted on her. (She had, hadn’t she? Or perhaps he was only seeing what he wanted to see?)

  
“Gavroche,” he started, “I think you’re a very wise boy. I’m not going to speak to you like a child, alright?”

  
Gavroche nodded, his earnest expression not looking like anything that would befit an eight-year-old.  
  


Valjean smiled. Gavroche reminded him far too much of Cosette as a child.

  
“You and your sister are both very brave... and she did a very brave thing in getting both of you away from your parents.”

  
At the mention of the Thénardiers, the boy curled back in on himself. The wide-eyed and interested expression was gone, replaced by painful memories and disinterest.  
  


“I’m sorry, Gavroche. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He repressed the instinct to reach for the boy’s hand. “What I was trying to say was, when I was younger, my sister was very protective of me. We didn’t have our parents either, and I— I thought she was treating me like a child on purpose.”  
  


“That _is_ what everyone’s doing though! I’m just the kid in the group who has to be taken care of, who everyone fights about, who isn’t allowed to go to protests—”

 _  
Protests?_ Perhaps that was a talk for another time. “I understand, Gavroche.” The boy huffed and crossed his arms, leaving Valjean to twiddle his thumbs in silence.   
  


“Have you ever thought about what your sister’s life was like when she was younger?” he eventually piped up. “Do you think she wishes she’d had someone to take care of her?”  
  


“I dunno...,” Gavroche mumbled, more content to fiddle with the hem of his Pokémon shirt than reply. “She’s really good at standing up for herself. I bet she could have protected herself—”

  
Valjean interrupted quickly. “Yes. But do you think she wished someone could have taken care of her?”  
  


The boy considered, still not looking Valjean in the eye. “Maybe...”  
  


“I think that’s what Éponine is trying to do for you, Gavroche. She’s trying to be the best big sister for you... but also be your mom, and your best friend— does that make sense...?”  
  


The room was silent again. Valjean feared he’d said something wrong, possibly upset the boy further, until: “...she’s treating me like a baby ‘cause she loves me?”

  
Valjean was speechless for a moment. “Well— I suppose you could put it like that, yes. I think she only wants what is best for you, Gavroche.” Hopefully this wasn’t all too confusing for him. “But the only way you can know that is by talking to her yourself. What do you think?”  
  


Gavroche responded by launching himself into Valjean’s lap and wrapping his arms around his waist.

* * *

Javert came home around 6pm (a new record for him, according to Rivette). He had expected to go through his normal evening routine: set his bag on the floor, kick off his shoes, and fling himself onto the couch (without even taking his coat off) while his husband smiled bemusedly, needling him about his day.

  
Instead, his spot on the couch was taken by his sleeping husband, who had one arm wrapped around the Thénardier— the Jondrette boy. He grumbled and pointedly ignored the cat meowing at his feet.  
  


Javert hated how his first instinct was to remark on how... _adorable_ the two were. They were in _his_ spot and he needed to complain to his husband about his day. Horrible.  
  


“Jean. Jean, dear, wake up.” Javert gently took his husband’s face in his hands, stroking his cheek lightly.  
  


“Hmm, hm— I’m awake—”  
  


“Shush. You’ll wake the boy. _And_ hurt your back sitting like that.” Javert carefully removed Valjean’s arm from around Gavroche, replacing it with a pillow. “Jean. Why is the Jondrette boy in our house?”  
  


“Jondrette...? Oh, yes, Gavroche.” Valjean yawned, rubbing his eyes. “I was looking after him for Éponine. Enjolras’ group was off to do something together. Mm... he was telling me about his Pokémon, I think. I must have fallen asleep.”  
  


Javert rolled his eyes at the mention of Enjolras; the revolutionary, or insurgent, or whatever he was being these days had caused him far too much trouble in the past. As had the little gamin sitting on his sofa— and not to mention his sister and biological parents.  
  


And yet... to see Valjean happy. To see him finally submitting to rest, even if it was in an uncomfortable position on an uncomfortable sofa. To see that little hint of a smile, the one he had last seen when Cosette couldn’t have been older than ten...  
  


Perhaps the boy could stay around for a while longer.


End file.
